YeahSo what if you flip a couple wordsI could triple that in birdsOpen your mind you see the circus in the skyI'm Ringling brothers Barnum and Bailey with the piesNo matter how you slice it I'm your motherfucking guyJust like a B-Boy with 360 wavesDo the same with the pot, still come back beige.Whether writers are par, whether powder the jarWhip it around, it still comes back hard.So easily do I w-h-i-pMy repetition with wrists will bring you kilo biggers.I got Creole C.O. bitches For my niggas who slipped, became prisonersTrees taped to the visitorsYou already know what the business isUnnecessary commissary, boy we live this shitNiggas wanna bring the 80s backIt's okay with me, that's where they made me atExcept I don't write on the wallI write my name in the history books, Hustling in the hall (hustling in the hall)Nah, I don't spin on my headI spin work in the pots so I can spend my bread

It's '87 state of mind that I'm in (mind that I'm in)In my prime, so for that time, I'm Rakim (I'm Rakim)If it wasn't for the crime that I was inBut I wouldn't be the guy whose rhymes it is that I'm in (that I'm in)No pain, no profit, P I repeat if you show me where the pot is (pot is)Cherry M3's with the top back (top back)Red and green G's all on my hatNorth beach leathers, matching Gucci sweaterGucci sneaks on to keep my outfit togetherWhatever, hundred for the diamond chainCan't you tell that I came from the dope gameBlame Reagan for making me into a monsterBlame Oliver North and Iran-ContraI ran contraband that they sponsoredBefore this rhyming stuff we was in concert

[Chorus]

Push (push) money over broads, you got it, fuck BushChef (chef), guess what I cookedBaked a lot of bread and kept it off the booksRockstar, look, way before the bars my picture was getting tookFeds, they like wack rappers, Tried as they may, couldn't get me on the hookD.A. wanna indict meCause fish scales in my veins like a piscesThe pyrex pot, rolled up my sleevesTurn one into two like a SiameseTwin when it end, I'm a stand as a man Never dying or admiring theseLast of a dying breed, so let the champagne popI partied for a while now I'm back to the block